


It Comes Back To You

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blindfolds, F/M, Light Bondage, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensation Play, Sensory Deprivation, Vaginal Fingering, heightened senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So. You’ve done this before, then? In my place?”</p><p>“Well, no one’s ever blindfolded me before.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Comes Back To You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, I binge watched Daredevil which was a blessing, and amazing and I loved every minute of it. And so I had to write this. Of course. I've not been the biggest fan of Matt and Nat together comics-wise but this incarnation of Murdock is just . . . he's everything I ever wanted.   
> SO! Without further adieu, hope you like it!

There weren’t many she’d trust to do this to her. Ever. It wasn’t an easy task, giving up control, and all over her skin itched as he tightened the blindfold around her eyes, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip off even if she tried. She focused on her breathing as she’d heard him talk about doing, on the steady filling and compressing of her lungs, when his fingers took her wrists and fixed them just above her head, threading the soft silk of the bindings through the rungs of his headboard. She took some comfort knowing that she could rip them loose if she needed to, if things got too . . .

But they wouldn’t.

“Only the best, huh?” she asked, tongue swiping out and over her dry lips, feeling as he hovered above her to press a quick kiss to her cheek. The stubble on his chin burned, feeding the low-burning in her gut so that it began to rise towards her chest.

“Cotton’s too uncomfortable,” he murmured, voice soft and close to her ear, tongue swiping at her lobe and sucking until she felt a keen of desire stick in her throat. “You’ll understand.”

She was pretty sure she already did, letting out a soft hum as she dug her heels into the silk of his sheets. Made sense. It felt expensive, luxurious beneath her already sweating skin, and every time she shifted to find a cold patch it would send the most delicious of chills up her lower back.

“You’ve done this before then? In my place?”

“Well, no one’s ever blindfolded me before.”

She nudged him with her knee, smiling in spite of herself at his cheek. In their few encounters in the past she’d always appreciated that. His humor was kin to her own, and there was never a sense of awkwardness or discomfort on the few occasions that even she forgot he couldn’t see. His laugh made his whole body shake above her, and without her sight she could feel the slide of his skin against hers more acutely than ever before, every ripple of muscle and shift of tendons as he moved to position himself in between her legs.

“Now, just lie back and relax,” he said, voice soft as his fingers made a slow map of her body, kneading her breasts until she whimpered and dragging his fingertips downwards. She shivered, her head snapping to the side, listening to his quickened breathing echo her own, to the way the silk beneath him hardly made a sound even as she felt the mattress give when he shuffled closer.

She wasn’t expecting the press of leather when he reached out to stroke her folds, the fabric already slick and smooth as he slipped one finger, then a second in quick succession, inside her. Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip, breath coming out a low hiss, as he started to slowly pump the pair of them. Without seeing it the sensation, the very act itself, took her breath away. Being pleasured with another’s fingers wasn’t exactly a new experience, but the porous texture, the softness of it as the pads of the fingers pressed against her walls and massaged right where she needed them to, had her back arching in no time.

“Matt-- _shit_ that feels good,” she couldn’t help but groan as he twisted his wrist, angling it so that the heel of his palm rubbed against her clit. Even with her eyes open against the all encompassing darkness of the blindfold she swore she could see stars burst in front of her. His long fingers made a hook, and inch by inch he reeled her in, pulling her all the closer to coming, reading her body far better than most anyone else could. He caught the subtlest of changes in her breathing and knew to lessen the pressure to her clit, allowing her to focus entirely on the sensation of being full when he slipped in a third finger, could tell by the way her body clenched around him when she was nearing orgasm and so slowed down to create the most delicious slow burn in her groin that she’d ever felt.

“You’re too good at this,” she barely managed to whimper, having had the oxygen sucked from her limbs and body as a whole.

“Want me to stop?” His hand faltered just as she felt herself beginning to shake, to get all the closer to the brink he’d been keeping her at for the past . . . well, she’d lost track of time.

Her legs shifted upwards and even without her sight found and tightened around his shoulders, squeezing dangerously. He knew what she could do to a man with these thighs, was brave enough to make his way between them. If he stopped right then it’d be the last thing he did, and she growled low in her throat. He laughed, and she felt her body relaxing with it even as his fingers were removed. The blunt, fat head of his cock replaced it, teasing at her entrance as she hummed with pleasure once the tip was pressed just past her slick folds.

“You really think I’d do that to you? I don’t have a death wish.” He pressed forward. She gasped and groaned as he eased his way in, letting her feel every inch, skin and nerves as a whole on overdrive. Hypersensitive, it felt like he was pushing his way into her very soul, stitching himself into the fabric of her being until she couldn’t tell where he started and she stopped but only that she didn’t want this to end. Ever.

Once he’d pressed himself to the root he took a moment, leaning over her. His breath was hot, sticky against the skin of her cheek but not uncomfortable. She tipped her head to feel out his own lips, following the stream of oxygen until she pressed her mouth to his and arced up against him. His lips opened without any need for persuasion, and she explored every crevice and angle she could. While she wasn’t exactly a kiss with her eyes open, type, kissing without her sight was an entirely new experience. He thrust shallowly in and out of her as she bit on his bottom lip and sucked hard enough to make it swell and draw blood to the surface.

She reveled in the way he shuddered atop her, in the way that she felt his breathing stutter. Her hips started to meet his, and above the slap of their skin together she swore she heard more than that, heard their spirits colliding, crashing into each other like opposite storm fronts. A whirlwind arose between them, spurned on by his name on her lips and his muffled gasps of pleasure. His fingertips, like lightning bolts, skittered around her skin, tugging at her nipples until the thunder of her moans caused them to travel downwards.

Gone was the leather glove he’d worn, and she found she preferred his hot skin pressing against the small of her back, drawing her closer, pinning her down when he found the center of the storm and knelt up before going to town on her. She shouted, writhed, and screamed beneath him, the blindfold staying in place as he’d said it would, before her orgasm claimed her breath and voice.

All she could think of was him, though, his rippling muscle pressed against her, the way his face must’ve been screwed up as she tightened around him. She could feel the hitch in his heartbeat when he pressed himself closer to her again, mouthing his way down the column of her throat. If she didn’t know any better, she thought as she gasped, his teeth having found the sweet spot just where the throat and her shoulders met, she swore he wasn’t really blind.

He’d begun to really tremble above her now, and she hooked her legs firmly around his waist, ankles locking, as she began to buck up against him in earnest, spurring him on. He stuttered, rhythm faltering as she heard his heart quicken, knew he was getting closer.

She leaned in, found his ear and the soft patch of skin just below the earlobe, and sank her teeth there. He shouted, body spasming, and the gush of his come inside her body felt decadent and sinful, leaking out from where they’d connected and spilling down her skin as she felt her second orgasm being triggered by it. She muffled her shouts in his shoulder, biting down on his skin until she was amazed she didn’t blood, but he groaned in pleasure the whole while.

“I imagine you left quite the mark on me.” He mused once they’d slowed, having eased her through the final tremblings of her orgasm, waiting until she’d regained her breath to ask her. When his fingers skittered to undo the blindfold she had half a mind to keep it on, enjoying the darkness, but she wanted to see him, wanted to see her handiwork and burn into her minds eye just how wrecked he looked.

“Don’t I always?” She asked, blinking slowly when the blindfold was removed, and once her hands were released she cupped either side of his face and tugged him in for a deep, slow kiss. They rolled onto their sides, still connected, her legs thrown over his and his arms wrapped around her. Both were guilty of leaving marks, of claiming the other as their own so no one would interfere. Just how they liked it.

 

 


End file.
